Getting Stuff Done

One of my plans for September was to write a daily post to Nelly's Garden and it seemed to be going fine until the 17th of the month. On that particular evening I was feeling extra tired and the very idea of dragging myself into my private, secret sitting room to write was wearisome indeed. Instead I posted this to Facebook.

Was going to write a blog post every day in September but then I got this nice bottle of red and the craic was good and I realised the internet is not the boss of me! Well, maybe Facebook is - a little bit.

Of course I thought I'd just miss the one day...

Then I read Oliver Burkeman's column in yesterday's Guardian. This paragraph resonated with me for I am always making complicated lists and plans that never succeed in the way that I'd hoped. They actually make me feel like a failure most days.

When attempts at unbending discipline fail, I turn to a post the Buddhist teacher Susan Piver wrote in 2010, entitled Getting Stuff Done By Not Being Mean To Yourself. It relates her own frustrating attempts at rigid scheduling, and the approach she chose instead: asking what she felt like doing. 

So today I did keep asking myself what I felt like doing and at one point in the mid afternoon I realised that what I really wanted to do was go to bed and nap. Which I did, and then when I got up about an hour later felt really refreshed and did lots of things without once consulting a list. And I even updated my blog.

Earlier today...

Sister and daughter 

We all went to Waterfoot for a walk on the beach.

Dogs and daughter

December Daily Post, No. 12

Eyes. Coming good.

Weather. Light dusting of snow.

Breakfast. Café Couture in Ballykeel.

Question. To Bert, “Should I bake something?”

Answer. From Bert, “Silly question, of course you should.”

Visitors. Young Rooney. Razza.

Walked. 21 minutes. Wore new jacket. Very cosy.

Baked. Steamed Syrup Pudding.

Supper. Toad-in-the-Hole.

Phone Call. London Sister.

Watched. The Departed. Late to the party I know. Lots of blood. Very good film.

General Mood. Happy.

Preparations for Christmas. Went outside and chose Christmas tree.

A List

So. I did this application thingy on Facebook which computed the words I used most frequently in my 2010 status updates.

It was interesting.

1. Bert. Which is just as it should be. Blood ties mean a lot, an awful lot. But one’s life partner is the most significant tie of all, most especially if it’s somebody like Bert.
2. Martha. Back to blood ties. One’s children are delightful but there is a freedom and a delight about grandchildren that is different. Miss Martha – the most adorable, delightful person that I have met this century.
3. Bees – they are sleeping now.
4. Sleep. Something I don’t think I get enough of. Apparently people who sleep a decent amount are generally not as fat as those who don’t. Yet again that could be the junk food. I’m sure that eating properly would help me to sleep better. Hopefully will do better in 2011.
5. Honey. I do like honey but after two years of beekeeping still haven’t got any.
6. Forward. Only way to go really. In 2011 I am all for moving forward. This will mean leaving some folks behind. Somehow I think they will manage without me.
7. Pigs. What can I say? They taste good, they are good. To Zoe, Katy and Hannah my apologies for casting Swine before Pearls.
8. Love. I do. Love you. I do.
9. Hannah. And no mention of the other two despite Katy giving me a son-in-law in 2010 and Zoe a grandchild in 2009. See 8. Hannah was here. She got mentioned.
10. Evening. I’m normally a morning person but mornings were generally taken up with certain folks who paid me to give them up. Hence evenings were better, Roll on a time when Mornings are Mine!

The Joy of Lists

For once I've got lots of things to write about and they are all so very interesting that I don't know where to begin. Oh! I do know where to begin - where I always begin. A List.

1. Just Because It's A Heatwave Doesn't Mean You're Allowed To Wear Your Bra As A Top!
   
2. The Joy of Watering. 
   
3. Chasing the Piglet.
   

The first topic is actually Hannah's and refers to a lady d'un certain age and voluptuous proportions who thought that an ill-fitting bikini top was an appropriate garment to go shopping in.  May I hastily point out that it certainly wasn't me, as I am a desprit hoor for modesty and wouldn't be seen dead in a bikini of any colour or shape. Quite frankly I'd rather go naked.

And Hannah said, that to make matters worse, the bikini top was a horrible brown colour. And that the unfortunate creature was eating a sausage roll. Bert said she'd probably chosen brown so that the HP sauce stains wouldn't show. 

Anyways I think I might have found Mrs Brown Bikini's discarded shopping list when I was In Tescos with Matty. Did I ever tell youse that I love noseying at other people's shopping lists? Handwritten ones are the best.

• LARD
  
• LOAF
  
• SAUSAGE ROLLS
• TEA BAGS

It's All About Me! Me!

I have been asked by Tuesday Kid to compile a list of eight pointless things about myself. As I am going to Darkest Wales tomorrow I will comply. For I may be some time away. Don't wait up.

1. So gently reared was I, that I had never heard the word 'fuck' uttered until I was twelve years old. I first heard it in Saint Louis Convent Grammar School, Cullybackey Road, Ballymena. By jings, my da was right when he said the nuns would give me a good education.
2. I was seventeen and a half, and a student nurse working on a psycho-geriatric ward, when I formulated my first opinions on euthanasia. 
3. I prefer dogs to children. Except, of course, the Young Banjos, and my own when they were younguns, and a few other well-mannered ones and, last but not least, my future grandchildren which I prefer over every creature alive.  
4. I prefer children to guinea pigs and hamsters.
5. I never had a perky bust. I went from having a flat chest to being the reluctant owner of a low-slung and matronly bosom. Overnight.
6. I think Christmas is over-rated. That's when I'm feeling positive. When I'm depressed I think it puts a blight on the whole year.
7. I'm ashamed that I once found Bono attractive.
8. I've never been to Wales.